This Could Be Anywhere
by forlackofbetterfandoms
Summary: Canada really does enjoy his slightly uneventful life. Really, he does. Until his brother gets a call from England wanting to go on a road trip. Now that Canada's stuck in car with the rest of the Allies, will it be a journey he wants to forget or remember? Rated T for slight language. Please R&R ( ヮ )೨


**Disclaimer: Everything you recognise isn't mine.-. I don't own Hetalia (wish I did).**

_**Chapter 1 (Mattie POV)**_

"MATTIE MATTIE MATT MATT MATTHEW MATTHEW MA MA MATTIEEEEEE", screams a voice directly in my face. I try to ignore it. Maybe it'll go away if it doesn't get any attention.

"MATT MATT MATT". I sigh.

"MATT MATT MATTIE". He begins jumping on my bed, shaking my shoulders while I lay down limp.

"MATT MATT IT'S REALLY IMPORTANT OKAY JUST PLEASE LISTEN TO ME".

"WHAT?" I exclaim, as I sit up in bed, incredibly pissed off and tired considering my brother managed to get me into a heated debate with him about hockey until 2 in the morning.

"WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT AT THIS HOUR?" I continue screamong at him, it's still way too early for him to be waking me up. I mean honestly what a dick. I don't even think that the sun's up yet.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT IT'S 1 IN THE AFTERNOON WAKE UP WAKE UP!" he yells at me, and I can feel the spit from his mouth on my face. It pisses me off even more that he's got the most ridiculous smirk on his mouth, I just want to smack it off with something. Preferably a hockey stick. I kick my leg up, hitting his butt, and successfully making him move out of the way as I swing my lower body over the side of the warm bed. This is why I hate staying over at Al's house, I can never have a peaceful night, and half of the time, he doesn't even see me. I get up and walk over to the small white wood-panelled door that leads to the guest bathroom in America's house.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING MATTIE I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU!" His voice lowers a bit and he stops shouting, becoming frantic.

"Mattie? Matt? Where are you? MATT?" He begins throwing the covers off of the bed and searching through all the drawers and my suitcase. Thank God he can't see me anymore, it's awesome being able to make myself invisible from anyone I dislike. Not saying that I dislike Al, but I mean, come on. I lock the bathroom door behind me and stand in front of the mirror, running my fingers through my blonde hair and rubbing my eyes, trying to wake myself up after that rude awakening from my brother. I can still hear him rummaging through my clothing though, so I decide to take a shower.

Upon finishing, I grab a towel from the rack beside the shower and wrap it around my waist, making sure that it isn't in danger of slipping. I step onto the bath mat, being careful not to slip, when suddenly I hear a small "Who are you?" I stumble back towards the curtain, nearly slipping. Without my glasses, I can't see anything, so I have no clue who or what that could be. "Who's there?" I said slowly. "Who are you?" the voice says again. It was seriously starting to freak me out. I walked as cautiously as I could to the bathroom counter, only a few steps away with my arms held in front of me, hoping that I wouldn't accidentally hit whatever was in the bathroom with me. As soon as I could feel them in my hands, I grabbed my glasses and shoved them on my face, spinning around and doing a 180 of the bathroom. I finally located the only other living thing in the room capable of speech (or at least I think it was. Al had a couple of potted ferns beside the sink and remembered the incident that happened a couple years ago where he got too close to one of England's fertilizing spells). Sitting on the toilet was that weird bear that kept following me around everywhere. What was his name again?

"I'm Canada," I responded, because honestly, how weird is it to be talking to a bear that clearly just watched you shower? "Oh." It responded. I decided to ignore it, hopefully it was just one of Al's weird recalled toys that he kept in a large box in his storage closet. I quickly brushed my teeth, combed my hair and left the bathroom.

Luckily, Al was gone, but I could hear him singing down the hallway, waiting for me to make breakfast. God, was I seriously the only person around here who could actually cook food? I rummaged through my ransacked suitcase and picked out something casual to wear. Just a pair of Roots gray sweatpants and a red and white 2010 Vancouver Olympics sweater that I liked because I got it signed by the entire Canadian Men's hockey team, which is kind of a big deal and also super awesome.

I walked out of my room, turned left and walked all the way down to the open-concept kitchen that overlooked the large living room with one of the nicest fireplaces I had ever seen in my life (also one of the biggest). Al was sitting in front of the T.V, gaping up at it with big, childlike eyes. He had his headset on and was screaming curses and death threats into it, which normally would have concerned me, if it weren't for the fact that he was on his Xbox playing some new first-person shooter game. Honestly, I thought the games were a bit violent so I didn't really care for them. I'd rather play hockey. I watched him play for a while but then stopped, realizing that my stomach was growling louder than Al's swearing, so I opened the fridge to see if he had anything quick to eat, nearly suffocating as I was thrown under a pile of cascading frozen pizzas, Sloppy Joes and chocolate milk. I guess that was out. Might as well just make pancakes. I walked over to his two door pantry, opening the doors reluctantly, praying that I wouldn't die when something fell on my head. Luckily, nothing fell and I discovered an un-opened box of Aunt Jemima pancake mix. I mixed the material together with water and poured the pancake-resembling mixture into a pan and mixing some chocolate chips onto it.

After making about thirty or so (not too many, because Al's stove was really slow at heating and cooking things), I loaded them all onto a plate, stacked one on top of the other and placed them on the table, along with some homemade maple syrup and butter. I sat down in my chair at one end of the table (where I could still see Al) and promptly bathed my pancakes in maple syrup.

"So Al", I said, trying to speak over his constant screaming "Wasn't there something you wanted to tell me?" I only vaguely recalled the morning's previous events. His reaction was almost instantaneous.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, throwing off his headset and running to the table, grabbing half of the pancakes and diving into them.

He pointed at me, "Are you trying to drown that?" he asked me. "Huh?" I said, looking down and realizing that I was still pouring the maple syrup all over my pancakes, although honestly, in no offence to Aunt Jemima, they tasted pretty bland without it. "Never mind." He said with a shake of his head. "So anyways," he said as he tilted his head to the right, fork in his mouth, "Iggy called me."

"Yuhhun." I said, with a load of mapley pancakes in my mouth.

"He wants to go on a roadtrip."

"_WHAT?"_ I exclaimed as loud as I possibly could. "Where? When? How? With _us?"_ . The last time we had gone on a road trip, it had ended with Al and I getting horribly drunk and Iggy breaking everything in sight.

"Well," Al continued, "Here. In the States and Canada. Yeah, with us, why do you think he'd call us if he didn't want to go with us?". I gaped at him.

"Also," he said, hesitating.

"Yeah?".

"Iggysaysfranceandchinawanttogotoandisaidtheycouldtheyarecomingtomorrow".

_**SUPERMEGA WHAT.**_ 'ARE YOU KIDDING ME AL, TOMORROW? WE HAVE TO RENT A VAN! AND GET PACKED! AND PLAN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AL WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME, MAYBE I DON'T EVEN WANT TO GO" I yelled at him. Stupid Al, getting me caught up in this stuff.

"You mean you don't want to go?" he said in with a pout looking like a lost puppy.

"Ugh. Fine. I'll go" I responded, rolling my eyes. Stupid Al, looking too cute to say no to.

"Yeah dude! I'm gonna go pack some burgers for the trip!" he exclaimed, standing up and running off to his room. I put my head in my hands. What in the absolute hell was this going to end up being?

**A/N**

**Teehee^.^ Thank you for reading my story! I think you're pretty awesome for that! **

**Prussia: Did someone call me?**

**Me (Zeta): NO OH MY GOD PRUSSIA GTFO NO ONE WANTS YOU HERE**

**Prussia: Jeez, fine.**

**Me: Good, he's gone. So ANYWHO, please please please review and like and follow if you liked it and if you didn't please tell me why in the reviews and hopefully I can improve! Chapter 2 should be posted verrrry sooooon **

**Also if any of y'all have got Wattpad this story is also on there, under the same name!**

**Wattpad user: italyveniziano (yes I know there isn't two I's veneziano wasn't available.-.)**

**HOPE YOU HAVE A SUPER AWESOME DAYYYY DFTBA all of ya^.^ Eat some PASTAAAA**


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